


Omens and Oracles

by Destina



Series: Desolation [7]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Early Work, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-10-01
Updated: 1999-10-01
Packaged: 2018-04-26 04:21:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4990042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destina/pseuds/Destina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A visit to an oracle leads to some revelations, and some conversation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Omens and Oracles

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 1999. Posted to AO3 in 2015.

Infinite joy was not a concept much embraced by the Jedi. Obi-Wan Kenobi felt ill-equipped to deal with the sensation, immersed as he was in the teachings of serenity which had guided him all his life. All that was necessary to bring forth a groundswell of happiness was a glance at the man beside him, slumbering peacefully, one arm thrown across Obi-Wan's bare stomach. 

Even in sleep, his Master was captivating to Obi-Wan, a riddle without a solution. For every fact he uncovered about his Master, one remained guarded, hidden somewhere in the depths of privacy Qui-Gon was unaccustomed to sharing. 

There had been some glimpses along the way of his Master's feelings for him, and Obi-Wan was awed by the love flowing freely between them. It was no longer only the love of teacher for student, but of a man for his beloved. 

Qui-Gon stirred and turned his face to Obi-Wan. The muscles of his back rippled powerfully as he turned and shifted. Obi-Wan's hand rested flat on that broad surface, and he stroked gently across the shoulders, soothing Qui-Gon back into a deep sleep. 

It was the middle of the Itraniian night; it had been a long mission, and Obi-Wan knew he should be just as tired as his master. Sleep was elusive. Too much had happened over the last few days, too many questions were swirling around in his head. Chance had brought him to a place where a crossroads loomed, and he was beginning to wonder if he would know the correct path. He reflected back on the night's events, trying to clear his mind of confusion, and wondered if he was even meant to understand…

********  
"I was not a difficult pupil," Obi-Wan insisted, hiding a smile as he walked beside his master through the misty forests of Itraniia. "Never difficult." 

"Perhaps difficult is the wrong word. Stubborn, perhaps? Recalcitrant?" Qui-Gon suggested in a mild tone. "Certainly you weren't the most cooperative padawan any master has ever taught." 

"No master has ever taught their apprentice the things you've taught me." The words were heavy with innuendo, seductive, and the bond between them pulsed with a fluid, sensual wanting. Obi-Wan made no effort to conceal his feelings, and was pleased to see the look of desire that flickered across Qui-Gon's face. 

"Unlikely as that may be, I have no wish to debate the point," Qui-Gon answered gruffly. "You've done well on this particular mission, and that is what's most important." 

"The Council was worried, weren't they?' Obi-Wan asked, looking at the road ahead rather than at his master. "And so were you." 

"I had faith in your abilities, Padawan. I've trained with you; there was no doubt that you could perform as required." 

"Such an easy mission, Master," his padawan responded in a knowing tone. "It was just a test. I'm beginning to think everything is a test where I'm concerned. Do they really have so little faith in me?" 

"It's the relationship between us. I allowed it to jeopardize your life once through my carelessness, and the Council is concerned that it could happen again, Obi-Wan." 

Abruptly, the young padawan drew to a halt and sat heavily on a mossy outgrowth of roots and leaves. He reached up absently with one hand and winced as he gripped the muscles of his shoulder, easing the tension there. "We're past that, Master. I'm restored. Everything is as it was." 

"Not everything," Qui-Gon answered softly, moving behind Obi-Wan. He stilled the young Jedi's fingers and set to work. Qui-Gon's hands moved slowly across Obi-Wan's aching shoulders, fingers massaging deep into the tired muscles. Force energy flowed through the touch, an invisible caress which both relaxed and pleased the young Jedi. 

"I wouldn't want things between us to be the same," Obi-Wan said, and the low urgency of the words was filled with truth and trust. He tipped his face up and found his mouth captured in a soft, slow kiss. 

"You need rest. This has been a long, tiring trip," Qui-Gon said, wrapping the younger man in a brief embrace before stepping away. 

"This is a beautiful world," Obi-Wan said, deflecting the statement. 

"Indeed it is," Qui-Gon replied, looking about him. The white mist that swirled around them was cool and inviting as it weaved through the trees and brush. Gentle breezes stirred the leaves into rustling conversation. Approaching night brought with it three pearlescent moons peeking out from high, heavy clouds, their intermittent light beaming onto the trees and foliage below. 

The Itraniians had built a world populated with beings who worshipped nature and the relationship between all living things. The Force was strong in their people, but in a very positive manner, and it seemed to be a factor in the Itraniian's pleasant and somewhat mysterious way of conducting themselves. They were friendly enough, but seemed somewhat reserved, and Obi-Wan always had the impression there was something hidden just beyond the visible. 

"How much farther?" Obi-Wan asked, trying to keep his fatigue from creeping into his voice. He kept his face composed and still when Qui-Gon's sharp, perceptive glance landed on him. 

"Only a short distance. We'll make it before the darkest time of night comes." 

"It was kind of the Ambassador to suggest the retreat for us," Obi-Wan said with a sigh, rising and setting the pace once again in the direction of the setting sun. 

As a parting gesture to the Jedi who negotiated their entry into the Republic, the Itraniians pointed them toward a peaceful, sacred spot, an old hot spring that had been used many times in the distant past of their people as a place of worship. The Ambassador told Qui-Gon that the place resonated with the Force. Qui-Gon had not hesitated to accept the directions. 

Obi-Wan suspected Qui-Gon had a little something more in mind than meditation. 

The night crept closer as they neared their destination, and Qui-Gon unconsciously stepped a bit closer to Obi-Wan, sharing warmth with him as they walked. Both Jedi pulled their hoods over their heads and hid their hands inside the recesses of their long sleeves to cut the chill. 

Qui-Gon was the first to feel it, to sense that there was something beyond the edge of the trees just ahead, and his steps became halting. His head tipped to one side as he stopped and extended a hand, almost as though he were using an antennae to pick up some sort of signal. "Do you…" he began. 

"Yes," Obi-Wan breathed. The Force surrounded them in a way Obi-Wan had never experienced. It was palpable, a living, dancing thing, mercurial and almost mischievous. Obi-Wan found he was able to access the Force without concentration; it seemed to cling to him, to be a part of his physical body, rather than his mind. Qui-Gon began to walk again and Obi-Wan followed automatically, still captivated by the sensation of the living Force racing about his skin. 

They cleared the tree line and stopped, staring. Small goosebumps raised up on Obi-Wan's flesh as he looked at the tall, broken stones arranged in a diamond formation, their polished black surfaces reflecting the moonlight in sinuous and odd patterns. 

Obi-Wan closed his eyes against the overwhelming feeling that he should enter the formation, that he *belonged* at the center of the stones. They seemed to sing to him, a strange call of attraction and surrender. He took a step, stopped, looked to his master. 

Qui-Gon seemed spellbound at the edge of the barrier formed by the tall ebony monoliths. With an odd expression, he turned to Obi-Wan, and said distantly, "You must go. The Force wills it." 

Obi-Wan felt the same inevitable truth, and with a puzzled frown on his face, he passed the first of the stones. Shivers assailed him, causing strange tremors in his hands, and he looked about the oddly bare patch of land as he crossed the small open space between the stones. A distant humming, electric and constant, thrummed through him as he neared the raised circle of stones at the center of the sacred place. 

He stopped, and looked back at Qui-Gon, who seemed strangely helpless. The night beat down against him, enveloping him in a cloak of black serenity, and he stepped up onto the small altar. 

Light! and a sizzle of ozone, sharp and tangy in his mouth; he tasted it, smelled it as it jolted him from one level of consciousness to another. 

"Well, finally," came a voice laced with humor. Obi-Wan looked up at the source of the sound, and a short, plump woman with ancient eyes gazed at him from a small stone chair. He jumped up, disoriented by the cave walls which enclosed him, by the small fire which burned hot in front of him. "We've been waiting for you, Jedi," said the small woman, and her laughter filled Obi-Wan with a sense of dread, and of anticipation. 

The rational part of Obi-Wan's mind reasserted itself over his fear. He took a deep breath and looked with a calm heart at his surroundings. 

The stones had disappeared; he was inside some sort of tiny cave, with barely enough room to stand upright. There was only the fire, which cast menacing shadows on rounded walls darkened by soot, and the woman, seated in a crude chair carved from natural rock. Obi-Wan reached out through the Force and was staggered by the amount of Force energy she possessed. 

"You've guessed this is all illusion, haven't you, Jedi?" the woman said, shifting in the small hard chair. The black garment she wore caught the light and reflected small sizzles of midnight blue. "Ask your questions, then. That's why you're here." 

"Who are you?" Obi-Wan asked immediately. 

"We are the Oracle." She tilted her head, studying him. "You don't believe in prophecy?" 

Obi-Wan smiled wryly. "Not in the kind of prophecy which comes from oracles." 

"Choose another name, then. Or perhaps another face." Her look turned calculating, and she mused aloud, "We take the form least threatening to the seeker. Perhaps this form would be more to your liking." 

Obi-Wan blinked, and Qui-Gon sat before him, his large form dwarfing the chair. It was his master, and yet it was not; the physical aspect was perfection, but the eyes were someone else's - speculative, probing, cold. 

With Qui-Gon's voice, the figure spoke. "You have great love for your master. This, above all, is why you must heed the warning." 

"What warning?" Obi-Wan asked, still skeptical. "You speak in circles." 

"We cannot convey the warning with words," said his Master's double, rising and stretching to its full height. "You must open your mind to the possibility, and allow us to show you." As if sensing Obi-Wan's great hesitation, the figure added, "You must make it possible, if you are to walk at your master's side." 

"How do I know this isn't some sort of trick?" Obi-Wan asked, knowing the answer before the words were past his lips. 

"Use the Force to guide you. That's what you call it. Yes, seek through the Force. All answers cannot come to one so young without guidance. We must sometimes offer our services." 

Obi-Wan was already deliberately testing the will of the Force, and the sensation was clear - this being was genuine, and there was something here that needed to be understood. He relaxed into the Force, allowed it to flow through him, and found himself face to face with the being. 

"Prepare yourself, Jedi, for all omens may be interpreted many ways. Your master knows this, and so will you. One time may we show you, and you must ask your questions quickly." The Oracle placed its hands gently on either side of his face; so much like his master's hands, even in their tenderness. The touch made Obi-Wan tremble. "You are wise to be cautious," the Oracle whispered.

A thousand colors blurred and mingled, and Obi-Wan was tossed suddenly into the role of observer. Shadows were performing tricks for him, and he watched the hazy images, trying to fit the pictures together in a way which made sense. After a moment, the images became clearer, but still moving by so rapidly he could barely piece it all together. 

_His master, turning away from Yoda, and such regret and sadness in them both. A glimpse of Obi-Wan, clad in ordinary clothing, free of Jedi robes. A sudden flash of being taken by Qui-Gon, of being held tightly in those arms, of his master moving within him, slowly driving him insane with need. Arcs of swirling light, glowing red, green and blue, and a sudden scream of anguish that he recognized as his own. And his master, standing beside a funeral pyre._

"I don't understand. Are all these things portents of the future?" Obi-Wan felt his frustration building, his fear overwhelming him as he looked at the stark grief on his master's face. 

"They are not. These are things that may come to pass at any given moment in the future. You must heed the warning and choose the path leading to the outcome you desire." 

"But how can I know which path is the correct one?" Obi-Wan questioned, teeth gritted. 

"Be wise. Be true to your teachings. Follow the will of the Force." The pictures faded into nothingness, and were replaced by a vivid tableau - Qui-Gon, standing in the Temple gardens with Mace Windu. "One more thing must you know, Jedi. Listen well." 

_His Master, talking with Mace Windu, and their words were distinct, distorted, loud. "I have seen visions of our future, Master. On all accounts, it is not what I might have expected it to be."_

"He kept that from me," Obi-Wan whispered. 

"It was not yet time for you to know," came the reply, and then a silence so deafening he threw his hands across his ears. 

"Obi-Wan?" 

Startled, the young Jedi looked up, and felt his master's hand on the small of his back, supporting him. He lowered his arms, looked into Qui-Gon's eyes and saw stark concern, and curiosity. "What do you hear?" Without thinking, Obi-Wan brushed his fingers across Qui-Gon's face, testing his reality. Emotions shifted in Qui-Gon's eyes. "What is it, Padawan?" 

Obi-Wan spun suddenly, looking for the Oracle. There was no trace of the cave, only the gleaming, smooth surfaces of the polished obelisks, and the strangely bright moonlight. "I…I saw something," he began, knowing how difficult it would be to explain. "An oracle. It was…she gave me information about my future…our future," he amended. He turned back to Qui-Gon, and was startled to see the troubled expression on his teacher's face. "What have you been hiding from me?" 

Qui-Gon released him and took a step back. "I have hidden nothing from you, Obi-Wan, nor have I misled you. There are some things I have chosen not to share." 

"Would a vision of our future be one of them?" Obi-Wan asked quietly. The validity of the Oracle's gift to him was confirmed when resignation settled across Qui-Gon's face. "Why would you keep such a thing from me?" he asked, not sure whether the hurt he was feeling was justified. 

Qui-Gon gathered his robe and sat down on the edge of the stone steps; after a moment, Obi-Wan followed suit, sitting on the step below his Master and turning to face him expectantly. 

Qui-Gon chose his words carefully. "You are aware I have never had the ability to see the future as other Jedi sometimes do. It is not a thing I've ever done. Thus, I am ever suspicious of what is revealed to me when I receive insight from the Force. It has not been accurate in the past, and may not be this time, either." 

"Tell me what you saw," Obi-Wan demanded. 

"I might ask the same of you," his master reminded him. "And I will expect you to tell me." 

"You first," Obi-Wan said, in that stubborn tone that Qui-Gon knew all too well. 

"I have had two distinct insights into our future. One of them was only an impression, really, of a hardship you would have to face alone, a difficult and trying time you would pass through without me." 

"Because you were dead," Obi-Wan said, his voice breaking on the last word. 

"Yes," Qui-Gon answered flatly. 

Obi-Wan looked away. "And the other insight?" he asked, burning with the knowledge he'd been given. 

"The other vision was clear. We will walk our paths together. Regardless of the direction our lives take, we will go as one, and we will not be separated." 

"Unless you die," Obi-Wan said, unable to keep the bitterness from lacing his words. 

"Obi-Wan." A gentle, insistent finger tugged at Obi-Wan's chin, lifting his face, and his Master looked at him with such aching love that it closed all the wounds and doubts inside the young Padawan. "There is no death, there is only the Force. And there is no guarantee that it will happen. Nevertheless, we are Jedi." The rebuke was subtle, but clear. "Now tell me. What did you see?" 

"So much, Master…I can barely comprehend what I was given. I think I glimpsed several events that were not connected. I saw myself in civilian clothes, and saw you arguing with Master Yoda. And I saw you standing by a funeral pyre, after some sort of battle. But I was not with you…" The significance of the words dawned on him, and he drew in his breath sharply, even as all the color drained from Qui-Gon's face. 

"The Oracle led you to believe I stood by your pyre," Qui-Gon said, his tone hollow. 

"The Oracle said I should receive the vision because it would be a chance for me to save you," Obi-Wan answered. 

"That's a price I would not allow you to pay." Qui-Gon's voice was low, and fierce. 

"We've been through this," Obi-Wan reminded him. "You instructed me when we became lovers that our feelings should never interfere with our duty." 

"Yes, and if the Oracle implies that you should use this knowledge to somehow take my place, to change our destiny, then you will have done exactly what we both have learned we cannot do." 

They stared at each other, each contemplating the prospect of a future without the other man, of the sacrifices they would each willingly make, and of the cost of making them. So many possible outcomes, and no way of knowing which path would lead to a destiny where they could be together. 

It seemed that, for the moment, there was nothing more to be said. The unspoken thoughts gathered around them like so many wet vines, clinging and tightening until communication was strangled. Obi-Wan nodded, looking a little dazed, and stood gracefully, returning to the edge of the sacred place to retrieve their shared bundle of clothes and possessions. "I take it we'll be sleeping here," he said, beginning to pull out the rough blankets. 

"Perhaps we should continue on," Qui-Gon suggested. "The spaceport is only another hour away at most. I'm not sure it would be wise to remain here, after…"

"The damage is done," Obi-Wan said wryly, smiling up at Qui-Gon as he tried to arrange the blankets in a comfortable way. He removed his cloak and padded the bed with it, and held out his hand for Qui-Gon's cloak as well. 

Instead of a cloak, he received a hand, warm and firm, clasped around his own. He was pulled back into an embrace, settled between broad thighs which opened to make room for him. His master held him for a moment, content to study every nuance of Obi-Wan's face; the small muscle twitching in his left cheek, the padawan braid which shifted slightly on his shoulder with every breath; the tiny curving smile at the corner of his lips. 

That corner was where Qui-Gon kissed him first, brushing his lips across the blossoming grin and continuing down the line of the jaw which angled up into the tender kisses. Gentle nips down the neck, not too firm, teeth skimming lightly down the strong white line. Qui-Gon's hand settled at the front of Obi-Wan's throat, pushing his tunic open gently, and Obi-Wan arched into the touch, head thrown back. His master's open palm traveled up that slender neck, followed by warm lips, moving slowly. 

Fingers curved around the back of Obi-Wan's neck, and he was drawn forward into a deep, delicious kiss, which traveled across his lips and back again. Qui-Gon withdrew and stopped to look into the stormy green eyes searching his own. 

"I will not lose you," he said fervently, as though the words were an invocation against harm. "I will not." 

"There is no death," Obi-Wan gasped, as Qui-Gon's hands found the fastenings of his trousers and opened them. "There is only the Force." His master took his power of speech easily, tongue cutting between his lips, opening them, demanding a willing sacrifice to the power of the feelings between them, and Obi-Wan gave it without hesitation. 

Qui-Gon's mouth refused to release him, even as his hands delved beneath the loose waistband of Obi-Wan's trousers and pushed them away impatiently. Those hands clasped around Obi-Wan's waist for a moment, maneuvering his apprentice's body closer, so the hard length of Obi-Wan's cock pressed against his master's still trapped by his clothes. He raised Obi-Wan's arms, drew his tunic up and over his head and dropped it to the side. 

Obi-Wan made a small noise of desire deep in his throat as sensitive flesh rubbed against rough cloth. Qui-Gon sat back, his hands delving down across Obi-Wan's buttocks as the older Jedi stood. He pushed Obi-Wan back slightly, to an even patch of soft grass, and then his master was on his knees before his padawan, dark blue eyes taunting the younger man for just a moment before he turned his attention to the erection before him. 

"You…I…" Obi-Wan panted, riveted to the erotic sight of Qui-Gon's head moving, of that mouth taking him in tightly, of his master on his knees - his master! - swirling his tongue around the head of Obi-Wan's cock. The pink tip jumped under the focused attention it received, and Qui-Gon looked up for a moment, never taking his eyes from Obi-Wan's as he carefully swallowed the entire length of his padawan's cock. 

Obi-Wan's eyes fluttered closed, and he reached out quite blindly to grasp the long locks of hair which shone silver in the moonlight, to control the speed, but Qui-Gon pushed his hand away and sucked him in to the root. With a soft howl, and a shiver of ecstasy trembling through him like liquid fire, he came, perfected by the gift his master had given him, by the emotion his master could not hide. 

Qui-Gon lowered his love to the ground, snatching up a cloak to cover him, and resting alongside him as the tremors subsided, laying kisses along his eyes, his lips, his chest. 

"You will not lose me," Obi-Wan said faintly, opening his eyes to see the face of his beloved. 

Qui-Gon wrapped his arms closer around Obi-Wan. "Would that you could guarantee that," he said, as though the words caused him pain. "I would give a great deal to know that it is so."


End file.
